


Know Enough to Stop

by withdiamonds



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-17
Updated: 2005-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:45:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withdiamonds/pseuds/withdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for JuC Day, 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know Enough to Stop

"You're going where? Justin pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, frowning. JC's voice continued on without him, full of barely suppressed excitement. Justin brought the phone in close again, listening to JC's words tumble all over themselves.

"...and there's all this cool stuff and, whoa, he said maybe, uh, maybe I could try some of it out, or, dawg, at least see how it works-"

"JC, wait, you're going to _Houston?_ Why? And what cool stuff?" He must have missed something important, because he had no idea what JC was talking about.

" _Lance_ , man. He says I can come see him in Houston next week, while he's over here to talk to NASA about the flight, and maybe I can-"

Oh, _Lance_. Yes, that would explain all the excitement. Justin gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything stupid. Lance and JC, together, with Lance acting like a big-shot cosmonaut, speaking Russian, showing JC around, letting him play with cool stuff. Great. JC was almost as much of a space geek as Lance was, and it was nice of Lance to let JC come hang out. There was no ulterior motive there, Justin knew that. Really. He did. Lance had told him so enough times.

"You're the one he sleeps with, J, not me."

Sure, JC slept with Justin. They'd been hooking up since Justin reached the age where JC felt relatively safe that Lynn wouldn't toss his ass in jail if she found out about it. Justin had had a painfully intense crush on JC when they were on MMC, and by the time NSYNC went to Europe for the first time, he was determined to turn it into something more. It had taken all of his considerable charm and energy to lure JC into his bed, but he had done it. JC's resistance to the idea had been unyielding at first, but Justin was nothing if not persistent.

"C'mon, C. We don't have to do everything, you know, just let me touch you. Please? I really want to," Justin had whispered in JC's ear, straddling his lap and grinding down. He braced his hands on the wall behind JC, and for once he was grateful for the fact that German hotels had such narrow beds. JC had no way to escape, but Justin didn't think he really wanted to, in spite of his protests.

"Justin, stop it." JC shivered as Justin gently bit the soft skin behind his ear. JC thought he was just a kid, but Justin had been around the block a few times, he had, and he knew what he wanted, and how to get it.

Justin moved to JC's mouth, kissing him softly until he felt his resolve begin to falter. "I'm not as young as you think I am, JC. Please?" he murmured against JC's lips.

JC groaned and Justin could feel it the instant he surrendered. Justin's lips curved in a triumphant smile against warm skin as JC's hips pushed up to meet his.

Then JC pulled back to look at him seriously. "We take it slow, Justin. I mean it."

And they had, for a while, and then Justin got older, and things got crazier, and they didn't take it slow anymore. Sometimes it was for fun, or because they were lonely, sometimes it was comfort, and sometimes it was hot and horny, and then one day Justin realized it was love.

The kind of love that made Justin’s heart race and his hands sweat and his knees weak whenever JC kissed him. JC kissed him a lot, but Justin was never sure if those kisses made JC’s heart race or _his_ knees go weak. JC was just always there, and most of the time, that was enough.

He’d been inserting "hmms" and "uh huhs" and "cools" into the conversation as the rhythm of JC's voice demanded it, when JC seemed to realize that Justin was only half-way paying attention.

"Justin? Are you even listening to me?"

Guiltily, he tuned back into JC. "No, I'm listening, dude. You get to play with cool stuff. I get it. Good for Lance. Good for you. Awesome." That really didn't come out the way Justin meant it to; he could totally tell that by the silence on the other end of the line. "Um-"

"No, Justin, that's fine. Whatever. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

Justin found himself staring at the phone in his hand for the second time that morning. Whoa. JC hung up on him. He only did that when he was really pissed off. Crap. They were going to have another Lance fight. Except he didn’t know when they’d be able to fit it into his schedule, which was going to be insane for the foreseeable future.

Really, crap. He was supposed to shoot the video for _Like I Love You_ the next day, and there was no chance of him and JC being in the same place at the same time until the night they were going to New York to see Joey in _Rent_. There was certainly no chance of getting together if JC was going to go haring off to Houston with Lance. And New York was going to be crazy, because of the VMA's and...Justin sighed.

He called JC back, but his phone went straight to voice mail. Justin began to get a little irritated himself. JC was totally overreacting here. Justin hadn't done anything more than refuse to gush because Lance invited JC to Houston so he could dazzle him with rockets. Stupid Lance and his stupid pyro.

 

*****

 

The video shoot was weird. Trace was there, and his mom dropped by, but Justin found himself waiting for Chris to pop up out of nowhere to give him a hard time, and he kept looking around, expecting to see Lance and Joey talking quietly in a corner, or JC checking out the catering table. He was excited to be doing this on his own, but it was just...weird.

JC was still avoiding his phone calls. Maybe the weirdness was contagious. Maybe it was Justin's solo shit that was throwing JC off, making him distant and pissy at the least little thing. But they had talked it to death before they made any decisions, and JC seemed fine with the idea of time off.

Justin would have clutched his curls in exasperation, if he'd still had any to get a good grip on.

It was easy, the next day, to be busy again, to not have enough time to call JC, to tell himself he'd try later.

Then it was too late, because JC was in Houston, and there was no way Justin was going to try to make up with JC while Lance stood around listening.

Finally, Lance called him. "You know you're an idiot, right, Justin?"

"Hey, I'm not the one-"

"Yes, you are. Call him."

“He’d better answer me this time,” Justin grumbled.

Justin dialed JC's number, hoping that if Lance was playing peacemaker again, he would at least make sure JC answered the phone. He must have, because JC did, although he didn't sound very encouraging. "What?"

"Hey, C," Justin said brightly. "You having a good time?"

There was a pause. "Yeah."

"Come on, JC, don't be mad at me." He hated when JC was mad at him. It threw him all off-balance.

"Whatever, cat." Damn. There was probably no other word that could come out of JC's mouth that infuriated Justin as much as _whatever,_ especially when JC used that snide tone of voice, and JC knew it. Justin bit his tongue.

He'd try one more time, then JC could take his snotty attitude and shove it. "I'm sorry, C. I didn't mean to rain on your parade." He honestly didn’t. It was just, well, Lance.

Silence. Justin was just about to hang up in defeat when JC said quietly, "It's fine, Justin. Really. I know how you get, sometimes."

Wait, JC knew how _he_ got? Like JC hadn't just spent a week being as stubborn as a pig?

Okay, deep breath. Staying mad wouldn't help anything, so Justin forced himself to relax. He let JC tell him all about what he and Lance had been doing, how amazing it all was, how the cats at NASA treated Lance with respect, and not like some rich popstar buying himself a seat on the shuttle. Justin was happy to hear about that part, because he knew how hard Lance worked for things he really wanted.

As long as he didn't want JC.

He told himself not to be stupid. Lance didn’t want JC. Justin knew that. Really.

By the time JC wound down, the tension had lessened considerably and the conversation ended on a better note than it had started. "I'll see you in a couple of days, C. Love you, man."

"Love you, too, dude. See you soon." Okay, still a little weird, but a definite improvement.

 

*****

 

Justin and JC didn’t sit together at _Rent_ , because they wanted it to be about Joey, and at Joey’s Opening Night Party at Planet Hollywood, JC kept his distance. Justin sighed and sidled up to him at the bar.

"Are you gonna ignore me all night, C?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just wish we didn't have to do that all the time." JC said flatly.

"Do what?" Justin asked, although he knew very well what JC was talking about. For some reason Justin couldn't get a handle on, he was insanely jealous of Lance, often imagining JC falling victim to the Bass charm. Lance had threatened to castrate him on numerous occasions, but he couldn't seem to stop doing it.

It was the wrong thing to say. JC's lips tightened. "You know what, nevermind. I thought after the last time, it wouldn't be a problem anymore."

The last time had been before Lance left for Russia. He put up a good front, but they all knew he was nervous. Justin had been teasing him about going to the moon, something that wouldn’t ordinarily faze him in the least, but JC had told Justin to knock it off, and Justin had taken exception to JC’s obvious-to Justin, anyway-preference for Lance over Justin. Whatever, it had made sense in Justin’s head at the time. Lance had spent quite a bit of time informing him that he wouldn't freak JC’s annoying, perfectionist ass if it were the last ass left available to him, and that Justin needed to knock this shit off.

Justin had promised to do better, because he _knew_ he was being stupid, and he actually thought he’d shown a lot of restraint when JC went to Houston. Apparently he was the only one who thought so. Lance was going to be pissed again if they kept this up.

"I don't have a problem, C, really I don't." Well, even if he had, he'd gotten over it.

JC just looked at him. Justin rolled his eyes at the drama of it all.

"Jesus, JC, quit being such a diva. I'm sorry I overreacted, okay?" He lowered his voice, leaning into JC to be heard over the noise of the party. "Come on, baby. Please?"

"Are you going to the VMA thing?" JC asked, his voice not giving anything away.

Justin nodded. "I'm heading over there in a little bit, yeah."

“We’re staying at the same hotel.” JC patted his pockets until he found what he was looking for. “Here.” He handed Justin a key card. “Room 1907. We’ll talk then.” JC finally smiled, and Justin decided to take what he could get and be happy with it.

He smiled back and said, "Sure. Later, cat." JC crinkled his eyes at him before he drifted away towards Joey.

 

*****

 

They didn't really talk, though, because it was late and Justin was exhausted when he finally got to the hotel. JC was already in bed, and he idly flipped through TV channels while he watched Justin get undressed.

Justin slid into bed, feeling awkward as hell. He left his boxers on, because it felt presumptuous to take them off. What if JC really wasn't into this, what if he was tired or not really in the mood? Justin didn't know how to tell anymore, it had been too long since they had been together for more than a day or two. They had always been able to read each other easily. Justin wasn't used to being so unsure with JC.

They'd been angry, and there had been hurt feelings. Justin always enjoyed make up sex, but tonight, the weird vibe was still there. He suddenly didn't know how to get things started, and he sure as hell didn’t know what to say.

He scooted closer to JC, and kissed him softly. JC didn't really respond, but he didn't pull away, either. Justin kept working at it, kissing him, licking at his lips, until finally JC opened his mouth and started kissing back. While they kissed, Justin rubbed slow hands up and down JC's sides, to the back of his neck, tangling his fingers in the curls there. JC wrapped an arm around Justin's waist, and worked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, palming his hip.

It felt like it always did, only it was muted, _less_ somehow. It felt a lot like going through the motions, like choreography that they'd done enough times they didn't have to think about it, and that made it kind of boring. He wanted this to feel amazing, and he was putting so much effort into convincing JC that it was amazing that he just wanted it to be over with.

He had a checklist in his head; make out for a while, play with JC's nipples, because he liked that, blow him enough to get him worked up, then roll over so JC could fuck him. While they were fucking, Justin could jerk himself off, and then they'd be done. They could say they had sex, and enjoyed it, both gotten off, so it must have been good sex, and Justin wouldn't have to feel like such a loser.

Sex proved that they had some sort of a relationship, good sex proved that it was a good relationship. Right?

That's pretty much how it went. They were so attuned to each others’ responses that they could do this without effort, but it was also without much passion. It was like an echo of how they usually made love, but they did it, and smiled when they were done, JC's palpable relief a reflection of Justin's own.

Justin thought he might throw himself in front of a bus if he ever had to do that again.

In the morning, he flew back to LA and JC stayed in New York.

 

*****

 

Justin found out that Lance got kicked out of space from his mom. She'd been watching the news on TV and Peter Jennings had told her all about it, with just enough scorn in his voice that Lynn got annoyed and called Justin.

He may have missed Peter Jennings acting superior about boybanders going to space, but he saw more than enough of that shit from seemingly everyone else on TV with access to a microphone.

It pissed him off beyond belief, but there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Lance was on his own, a continent and an ocean away, and none of them could do much to help.

JC was furious, and left long rambling diatribes on Justin's voicemail. His conspiracy theories only made sense if Justin was drunk, and on the nights he actually had the energy to go out and drink, he called JC back and left equally outraged rants on _his_ voicemail.

At least they were talking. Sort of. There wasn't really any time for them to see each other, and Justin was so busy doing promo for _Justified_ that some nights he was even too tired to call his mother. So, bitching to each other's voicemails on Lance's behalf was progress. Kind of. For a change, Lance was bringing them together, instead of being a wedge between them. Which Lance would be thrilled to hear, if the circumstances didn't suck so much.

Chris called him while he was in the car, on the way to another interview. "J, you've gotta do something about C, man. I can't take much more of his whacked-out theories. The Russians are _not_ in cahoots with Fidel Castro and Dan Rather to keep Lance from going to space. Make him stop."

Justin laughed. "I don't think I can, man. C's on the warpath this time."

"No shit." Chris paused, then said, more seriously, "This really sucks. Those fuckheads."

Justin nodded. "Yep."

Joey's phone call a few days later was kind of confusing. "What's the matter with you, motherfucker? Why aren't you and JC talking to each other?"

"Wait, what?”

"Justin. There's rumors going around that you and JC aren't talking to each other. What’s your deal?” Joey sounded amused and aggrieved at the same time. It was a tone he had perfected over the years, the result of dealing with the fallout from all their various whacked-out melodramas. He'd had to spend a lot of time listening to Lance threaten JC and Justin with all kinds of dire consequences if they didn't stop putting him in the middle of their fights. Joey didn’t have a high tolerance for their bullshit anymore.

"That's crap, Joey. Sometimes there's more phone tag going on than actual talking, but we're not fighting, if that's what you mean." That was totally true. They weren't fighting, but they weren't doing much more than using Lance to have something to talk about.

"Are you sure?" Joey didn’t seem to be buying it.

He wondered how come sometimes Joey believed it when he read shit like that, after all this time spent being famous. "Joey, I'd know it if I wasn't talking to my own boy-um, JC,” Justin said, catching himself before he said _boyfriend_. They didn’t call each other that, although he wanted to.

“Your own JC?” Joey asked, obviously not fooled in the least. He was nice enough to let it go, though. "So, if you're talking to him, you know all about how he thinks Sony and MTV are conspiring to get Courtney Love on the shuttle instead of Lance, right?"

Justin sighed. "Right."

"Make him stop, Justin."

He would, if he could manage to get them both in the same city at the same time.

 

*****

 

Then Lance went back to Star City, and even though it was on his own dime, JC calmed down considerably, without Justin having to stage an intervention.

But Justin kept thinking about their last night in New York, and how much it sucked. He tried to remember where JC was, told Trace to fuck off for a couple of days, and reworked his schedule. JC was apparently back in New York, so Justin decided a TRL appearance was in order.

He called JC from the car, and big surprise, got his voicemail. "C. I'm on my way in from the airport. Call me." He hung up, then dialed the number back. He left the name of his hotel, and added, "Get your ass over there. We need to talk." Sometimes, the direct approach worked best, startling JC into cooperating.

It was after midnight when Justin finally heard the knock on the door that he’d been waiting for. He’d been alternating pacing around the hotel suite and dozing fitfully in front of the television. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he opened the door.

JC stood there, looking uncertain of his welcome. Justin pulled him into the room, and into a hug. JC shuddered once, then relaxed in Justin’s arms, leaning his forehead against Justin’s shoulder and sighing.

Justin smiled and dropped a kiss on the top of JC’s bowed head. “C’mon, baby. Let’s sit down.” He let JC decide where he wanted to sit while he got them both a beer out of the minibar. He turned to see JC on one end of the couch, arms crossed defensively across his chest. He unfolded them to take the beer, not meeting Justin’s eyes as he reached his hand up.

Justin sat down next to him and asked, “JC, are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad.” JC sighed. “I honestly don’t know what’s wrong, J.”

“C, come on. We’ve been weird for a while now.” JC opened his mouth, but Justin interrupted him before he could say anything. “And you know as well as I do this has nothing to do with Lance,” he admitted.

JC didn’t answer, he just started to peel the label off his beer bottle, although it looked like he was trying not to smile at Justin's admission.

Justin took a deep breath. He hated to ask again, but he apparently needed the reassurance. “Is it because of the CD? The solo thing? Jive?”

“No, of course not,” JC answered sharply. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Then what? What the hell is your deal, JC?” Justin demanded.

“I don’t know.” JC shrugged. He seemed to be deeply fascinated by the bottle in his hand. “Maybe I just miss you, miss doing stuff with you. Ever think of that?”

“Wait, that’s it? I’m busy and you miss me?” Justin sat up straight. “Are you kidding me, C?”

“No, I’m not kidding you,” JC said indignantly. “And no, that’s not all.”

”Well, then what the hell else is there, JC? Cuz I gotta tell you, I’ve just about had it.” Justin‘s voice rose in frustration.

JC narrowed his eyes. He jumped up from the couch, then turned and glared at Justin. “You’ve just about had it? Is that right?” he hissed. “What is it you want from me, Justin? Please, man, just tell me, and I’ll see if I can oblige.”

Justin stared at the furious man in front of him. What did he want? It was pretty simple, he thought. He wanted JC. “I just want you, JC. That’s all.”

“Well, you have me! Jesus!” JC threw up his arms in exasperation. “So cut this shit out with Lance! Lance is my friend, Justin. I care about him. He’s your friend, too, you know. I’m not sure why you can’t remember that.”

Okay, maybe JC had a point. Lance wasn’t a threat, and really, Justin knew that. And Lance _was_ his friend, had been for a very long time. “JC, I’m sorry. I just, I never know-“

“How can you not know, Justin? How can you sit there and tell me you don’t know?” JC shrugged. “I’m here. You have me.” He looked down at the floor. “You’ve always had me.”

Justin put his beer down on the table next to the couch and stood up. He put his hands on JC’s shoulders, and waited until JC looked at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know that.” JC started to move away, and Justin held on. “I know it now, JC. I promise.”

 

*****

 

This time when Justin got into bed, he didn’t feel at all awkward. And JC had made sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

He moved into Justin’s space, and Justin could feel the heat shimmering between them. JC reached out a finger and touched him through his shirt, rubbing very softly, back and forth, across his collarbone. Justin shivered and watched the small, predatory smile play around JC’s lips. JC had a tendency to get toppy on him at the most interesting times. Justin could get behind that. It was certainly one way to go.

Justin waited while JC studied him, head tilted to the side, the speculative light in his eyes making Justin’s heart race.

“Take off your clothes.” Justin swallowed and hurried to comply. JC watched him. His hands shook as he tried to get his jeans off as quickly as possible.

He swept his t-shirt over his head, stepped out of his pants and toed off his shoes and socks at the same time. “Get on the bed, J.” JC’s voice was low and rough. His eyes traveled up Justin’s body. “Don’t move.”

Justin could do that. He watched as JC disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a bottle of something slippery. He tossed it on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt. He smiled as he toed his shoes and socks off and said, “Turn over.”

Justin quickly rolled over onto his stomach, and JC tapped the inside of his thigh impatiently. Justin spread his legs and JC hummed with approval. He kissed his way proprietarily down Justin’s back, and then Justin felt slick fingers easing inside him, making him gasp.

Before Justin could catch his breath, he was on his hands and knees, and JC was fucking him with long, deep strokes, his shirt dangling on either side of Justin’s back. His jeans, pushed down just as far as his knees, were rough against the back of Justin’s thighs. Justin was having a hard time keeping up.

JC wrapped his arms around Justin’s chest and pulled him up and back, and Justin sank further down on JC’s cock. JC reached around and took Justin in hand, stroking him with a smooth rhythm that made Justin practically whimper. He gave his hips a particularly wicked twist and Justin came with a shout.

JC pushed him forward onto his belly again, and his movements sped up, his hips snapping and stuttering until he tensed and then shuddered, gritting out Justin’s name in his ear.

They lay there, Justin concentrating on breathing, while JC nuzzled his neck and whispered words of love in Justin’s ear.

Now _that_ was the kind of make-up sex Justin could live with.

 

*****

 

”I still miss you,” JC said quietly, later. He was wrapped tightly around Justin, the sheets tangled at their feet. JC was naked now, too, which Justin had insisted on in no uncertain terms, using his teeth and his tongue to get his point across.

“I think we can figure something out, JC,” Justin said. “We can do the long-distance thing without falling apart. I mean, it’s not like we don’t live in the same town. Even when I’m in Europe, it’s not like I’m on another planet.”

JC nodded. “I guess.” He smiled, blinking sleepily. “We can try and do better.” He stretched and sighed, then his arms encircled Justin again, pulling him snuggly back against his chest.

And then, right on cue, JC started talking about Lance. “Speaking of other planets, what the hell is Freddy doing over there? Isn’t he supposed to at least make sure Lance eats?”

Justin smiled as he realized the hollow feeling he usually got when he thought about JC and Lance was gone. “I thought you said he looked good, cut, like stone, whatever. You’ve been saying that all over the radio lately, C,” he added wryly. “Wait, is he okay?”

JC shrugged. “He’s just so thin. Didn’t you see those pictures Freddy sent?”

“Freddy didn’t send me any pictures.” Justin peered suspiciously at JC over his shoulder. “Why is Freddy sending you pictures? What kind of pictures are they?”

JC rolled his eyes. “Because Lance and I are having a mad, passionate love affair, why to you think?” He snorted against Justin’s neck and tightened his hold. “Or maybe I just check my email once in a while.”

Justin thought about that. He wiggled his ass back against JC and waited. “JC.”

“Because I asked him to. When I saw Lance in Houston, he looked good. But you know how he does, how he gets when he thinks he has to work harder than anyone else for something he thinks he’s going to lose.”

Justin did know. Actually, if he thought about it, he could probably trace his issues with Lance and JC back to those days right before Lance got sick, when he went around looking like a pale, green-tinged ghost and JC was so fiercely protective of him, and so very angry when it didn’t do any good. “Freddy wouldn’t let him….” He stopped. Freddy wouldn’t know enough to stop him.

“Exactly,” JC said.

Justin sighed. “I don’t think there’s much we can do right now, C. We just have to wait until he comes home.”

”I know,” JC kissed behind Justin’s ear. “I know.”

 

*****

 

Lance showed up at Justin's London hotel, leaning wearily against the doorframe in an obvious attempt to look jaunty and unconcerned, but failing miserably and looking like warmed-over shit instead. The exhaustion in his eyes hurt Justin's heart. "Dude. Get your ass in here."

"Your skinny ass, " he added, taking a really good look at Lance as he walked into the bright room. "Jesus, Lance." JC was right. Lance actually looked gaunt. It wasn’t a good look for him.

"I'm well aware of what I look like, Justin," Lance snapped. He paused, standing motionless in the middle of Justin's lavish hotel suite, and brushed a shaky hand across his eyes. "Sorry."

"No, s'okay, man." Lance looked like whatever was keeping him on his feet was about to wear off, and soon. Justin crossed over to him and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, let's sit down. I don't know about you, but it's been a long day. I'm beat."

Lance snorted quietly. "Right. I'm sure you are," he said, but he went willingly to where Justin pulled him. They settled on the couch in the sitting area, Justin facing Lance with his leg tucked under him. Lance sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees. His hands dangled helplessly between his legs and Justin couldn't remember a time when he had seen Lance look so defeated.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, and Justin closed his mouth on the words of sympathetic inquiry that had been on the verge of spilling out. "It's over, I'm done, I'm certified, and the rest is out of my hands." He turned his head and glared at Justin. "I mean it, J."

"Okay, I got it. Everything's fine, you don't want to talk about it, you look like hell." He kept his voice neutral, but Lance's eyes narrowed. Justin put up his hands placatingly. "It's cool, I won't say another word."

Lance glared at him for another minute, then he slumped back against the couch and closed his eyes. "I'm just tired, J, really."

Justin studied him for a minute. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked abruptly. Lance opened his eyes and sighed.

"Justin..."

"Hey, I’m hungry. I'm not over here on vacation, you know. I'm working my ass off, and I want something to eat."

Lance shrugged and nodded his head. Justin said, "I'm calling Room Service." He plucked the menu off the table at his elbow and tossed it at Lance. "Here, decide what you want while I let a few people know that I’m staying in for dinner." He stood up and looked around for his cell phone, watching Lance give the menu a cursory glance. "Pick something good, or I'll pick for you," he warned.

The threat of Justin ordering for him was clearly enough to scare Lance into giving the menu some serious attention. Satisfied, Justin ducked into the bedroom, and hit JC's number on his speed dial. C would be asleep right now, but that was fine. Justin left a message on his voice-mail. _Lance is here with me. He’s not okay yet, but he will be. Just thought you should know._

Then he headed back out into the sitting area to take care of Lance.


End file.
